


Heaven Can't Help Us Now

by shootingstarcipher



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual, Romance, Slavery, Smut, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootingstarcipher/pseuds/shootingstarcipher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d thought that being kidnapped would be the worst thing that ever happened in his lifetime - especially as he was separated from Mabel.<br/>But then Bill Cipher walked into his life - yet again - and it could only go downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Main Attraction

Nobody knew where he was. He was just… missing. Not even Mabel knew where he was. The fact of the matter was that even he wasn’t sure. In a warehouse somewhere, probably. The room was dark - almost pitch black - and it smelled awful, like rotting flesh. He wondered if it was his own flesh rotting or somebody else’s. There was a door across the small, claustrophobic room from him and he was sat with his back against the wall, the coolness of the metal - he thought it was metal - seeping through his clothes and attacking his skin. He shivered, and not just because of the cold.

He wasn’t injured - yet - but there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t be soon. His heart told him to be defiant but his mind (which always won in the end) was screaming at him to do whatever he was told regardless of how he felt about it. Obey and survive. Disobey and get killed. And so as of yet, he’d been behaving perfectly, doing everything he was told by his captors without once rebelling against them in spite of his temptations. Fighting back would only make it worse, he told himself. He was nowhere near strong enough to fight them off or fast enough to outrun them, and besides, he was drastically outnumbered.

Mabel had been caught too; he was sure of it, although he hadn’t actually seen it happen. He’d been grabbed by a couple of strangers at the Mystery Shack during his shift in the gift shop and then stuffed into a bag, hauled into a van and then he’d blacked out for a while before waking up here, in the cramped dark room that smelled of decay. But he was sure that at some point during all of that, he’d heard Mabel screaming at him. But he hadn’t been able to reply and so had no idea where she was or if she knew what was happening to him.

He had just closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep to relieve him of his exhaustion but finding himself too stressed by the situation and too afraid of what would happen to him while he slept, when the door was heaved open and light streamed into the room, drawing his attention towards the doorway. In walked someone he recognised. One of the men who had grabbed him, shoved him into the bag and then loaded him into the van. He was dressed all in black - as they all were - with a mask over his face to disguise his identity. But he had a man’s voice and a man’s build.

Behind him followed someone he didn’t recognise. Black boots, the top of which were covered by the hem of his black trousers, a golden overcoat and a slightly crumpled white shirt. His hands were covered by black velvet gloves and in his left hand he carried a golden cane. A bow tie adorned his neck and a crooked top hat sat tilted on top of his head. His hair was golden, just like the one visible eye that peered at him curiously. The other one, if there was another one, was hidden behind an eyepatch. His lips were pulled into a smirk and he leaned nonchalantly against his cane, his gaze fixed on Dipper.

The man he recognised led the stranger into the room and Dipper’s breath hitched. There was barely enough room for the three of them. The heavy metal door slammed shut, trapping them all inside.

Dipper’s mind was suddenly wide awake and alert, working away at the blond stranger standing in front of him. His clothes were old-fashioned, elegant and he clearly had expensive tastes. He was only slightly taller than him, slender, and had a young face. Not much older than himself, but with a much more authoritative air about him. When Dipper glanced across at the man who had brought him there and found that he was standing further away from the blond than he had been before, as if for some reason he didn’t like being around him. Though to be honest, Dipper could understand why.

“You’re sure this is the one you want?” the man grunted, turning to face the blond but still keeping his face hidden behind his mask. The blond nodded impatiently, as though it was something they’d gone over more than once. “I don’t get it but… just as long as you’re paying.” Nodding curtly again, the blond dug his hand into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a bundle of money which he then shoved into the man’s hands. “He’s all yours, you freak,” the masked man sighed and then left the room, though Dipper suspected he might have been grinning behind his mask, pleased with himself to have gotten his hands on the money.

The blond boy reached out his gloved hand and pulled Dipper to his feet, his piercing golden gaze locked onto his. It was at that moment that something inside Dipper’s brain snapped. The boy’s identity suddenly became clear, even before he heard him speak. Who else wore a bow tie and top hat in this day and age? Who else had golden eyes? And for that matter, who else had only one eye? And who else could be so charming, so charismatic on the outside but have a heart of stone on the inside?

“Took you long enough to realise, Pine Tree.” His voice, that name… It all confirmed it. But he couldn’t say the name out loud, afraid of unintentionally making everything seem even more real than it already did. It was probably just a nightmare, Dipper told himself. A horrible nightmare fabricated by the demon himself, probably just to trick him into losing his mind. Well he wasn’t going to fall for it.

But before he realised what has happening he’d been thrown to the floor, the demon standing over him with a sickening grin carved into his face. “I just saved your life, you know, kid.” No, Dipper mentally shot back, sure that he was reading his mind whether he admitted or not. He hadn’t saved his life. He just wanted him to think that, probably to get him to trust him even though he didn’t deserve it. Dipper knew exactly what happened to people who trusted Bill Cipher. They ended up being betrayed and then stuck in between worlds for decades like his great uncle Ford had been. 

“Don’t fight it, kid,” Bill went on, interrupting his thoughts. “You’d be nothing without me and don’t you forget it.” Then he suddenly crouched down, grabbing him by the shirt and leaning in to hiss in his ear. “You’re mind now, kid. You owe me your life and besides, I just paid for you. That means I get to keep you until I decide I don’t want you anymore.”

But what would happen to him then? He didn’t dare ask. Instead, he scrambled to his feet when the demon instructed him to and followed him out into the hallway, which happened to be just as dark and dingy as the room he’d been confined to. Another masked man stepped out from around the corner and approached them, addressing the demon when he said that under 18s weren’t allow to purchase any of their prisoners. Bill simply glared coldly at him, handed over another stack of money and walked on with Dipper in tow.

Dipper was about to ask where they were going - hoping the demon would return him to the Mystery Shack and then leave them all alone for good, but at the same time not really believing it was possible - when his brain reminded to do nothing but whatever he was told to do by Bill, as much as he hated the idea. Obey and survive, he reminded himself. Probably, he mentally added, fearing that Bill would actually have him killed for his own enjoyment.

When they reached the exit of the warehouse and stepped outside, Dipper expected to be faced with a place he’d never seen before, far away from any area of Gravity Falls he knew of. But what actually happened was that the two of them ended up walking straight into the Mystery Shack. It surprised him at first, but then Bill scoffed at him and explained that he’d teleported them there and that he’d blinked right through it.

“Oh, and don’t worry kid. I’m not planning on having you killed,” the demon laughed, slinging an arm around Dipper’s shoulders. “Why ruin all my hard work? Getting this body wasn’t easy, you know, and I plan to put it good use. Anyway, why would I have you killed when I have so much more to do with you? You’re not getting away that easily, Pine Tree.”

The two of them lingered in the doorway, Dipper shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot whilst the demon rested against the doorframe, twirling his cane in his hand with his fingers. “Better get a move on, kid. You’ve got twenty minutes here.” Dipper lifted up his head and peered at him curiously, wondering what on earth he was on about, but then reality hit him and it suddenly became apparent that he’d been bought by a demon - and not just any demon, but Bill Cipher, the one that seemed to be hell bent on making his life a misery. He wasn’t in control of his own life now. And it seemed like Bill actually thought he was being kind by letting him go back to the Mystery Shack for a few minutes, but in reality it was just making him feel worse.

Still, hope sprang eternal and he quickly decided that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all, even if it did make him feel even more hopeless than he’d felt before. At least he’d be able to let his family know what was happening to him and hopefully he’d find out what had happened to his sister. And, if he was really lucky, maybe Ford would be able to get him out of his situation with Bill. He wasn’t going to hold his breath waiting for that to happen though.

After enduring a short jab in the lower back by the demon’s cane, Dipper started forward, glanced back at him and saw that was in the middle of closing the front door behind them, and then began rushing about, desperately searching for his family - constantly aware of his twenty minutes time limit - but ultimately to no avail, until he climbed the stairs to the attic and found Mabel lying on her bed, sobbing into her pillow. It wasn’t like her at all.

He cleared his throat to get her attention, but she didn’t hear him over the sound of her own cries. “Mabel, what’s wrong?” he practically yelled, and this time she shot up in her bed and whirled round to face him, her face breaking into a grin as their eyes met. It turned out that in their particular situation, with one of them about to be whisked off presumably to spend the rest of his life imprisoned by a demon and the other having spent the last few hours fearing for her brother’s life, their hugs were as awkward as they used to be.

“How did you get away? I saw them put you into that van, and then they tried to get me as well but Grunkle Stan managed to fight them off me.” Half of what she said was muffled by Dipper’s t-shirt and difficult to understand, but he got the gist of it. “Stan and Ford are out looking for you,” she explained, lifting her head up off his shoulder. “They’ve been out for hours.”

“When are they coming back?” Dipper asked, fairly sure she wouldn’t be able to answer him but he thought he’d ask anyway, still hoping that Ford might be able to get him out of the mess he was in with Bill. As he’d suspected, she didn’t know. “I’m not staying, Mabel.” The words were hard to say and he had to look away as he spoke, afraid of seeing the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, but they had to be said nonetheless. “I… The place they took me too was… I was sold. I don’t know why; I don’t understand any of it. But the person they sold me to is…” 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t force the words out. So instead he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her downstairs to where Bill was waiting for him. He saw her grit her teeth in automatic disgust, knowing that before her stood the boy who was ripping her family apart.

Bill simply sighed, shook his head disapprovingly and tutted. “I did it to save his life, Shooting Star. You weren’t there. You don’t know what was going to happen to him.” All three of them knew that this was in fact true, she didn’t know what would have happened to him, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her was that Bill Cipher - her gaze had hardened at the realisation that he was the one taking her brother away from her - was messing up their lives again, this time by taking Dipper away and claiming it was for his own good. “Don’t be so angry - it’s not a good look on you,” the demon jokingly advised. Then he turned to Dipper. “Go back upstairs and pack your things. You have six minutes and thirteen seconds left. Best be quick.”

Sending a quick nervous glance in his sister’s direction, Dipper ran back up the stairs and did as the demon suggested - it was really more of a command than a suggestion anyway. He didn’t know what happened with his sister after that. She stayed downstairs with Bill, probably being teased by him in some way. He was probably the reason she didn’t follow him upstairs too. Within four and a half minutes, Dipper came trudging back down the stairs with his backpack slung over his shoulder and tugging his suitcase along behind him. Mabel reluctantly stepped aside to let him passed and he approached the blond by the door warily, the demon reaching out to irritatingly pat him on the head when he drew nearer.

The door opened but before he had the chance to step outside he felt something cold, hard and metallic constricting his throat, enough to cause discomfort but not enough to make it difficult to breathe. Though he didn’t see it until later, the blue collar around his neck was adorned with an image of Bill’s original form. A chain was attached to the collar, connecting his neck to the demon’s wrist. After exchanging a quick, sorrowful goodbye with his sister - neither of them knowing if they’d ever see each other again - he turned and left, allowing himself to be dragged along by Bill.

They walked this time instead of teleporting. In a way it was a relief, but in another… He was embarrassed to think that he might be seen being dragged around a boy a few years older than him with a metal collar. It made him look… Odd. And weak. But they weren’t seen by anyone and eventually (after walking through the forest near the Mystery Shack for half an hour) they came to the door of a delicate-looking cottage. Dipper looked over at the demon in confusion. He’d expected to be transported to another world - one of danger and destruction and decay - and yet instead he found himself staring at a home he wouldn’t mind calling his own.

“I know you’re surprised,” Bill commented, waving his hand at the front door and causing it to swing open. “But you should really give me a chance to prove that I’m not here to torment you,” he went on. The two of them stepped into the cottage, Bill pulling the brunet along, and Dipper cast his gaze over the hallway whilst the demon closed the door and locked it. “You like it?” Bill asked him, seeming genuinely interested in his opinions for once.

But Dipper didn’t have time to respond. The demon clicked his fingers and suddenly they were upstairs in another part of the house. A bedroom. Dipper stood there with his mouth agape, still trying to comprehend what was really happening. The teleportation was messing with his vision as well as his head and he had to blink a few times before he got used to the blinding flash of light that already vanished. Still blinking, he kept his head hung and his gaze fixed on the floor.

Cream carpet ran under his feet. The walls were painted blue and the ceiling was covered in white tiles. The door, white with a gold handle, was on his left, just behind Bill. Another door was behind the brunet, exactly the same design as the other, but this one led out into an ensuite bathroom. In front of him was a four poster bed with golden satin sheets, blue pillows adorned with lace and a thick, black, velvet blanket that was enormous it hung off the edges of the bed and reached the floor. Beside the bed, up against the wall, was a wooden desk and cushioned chair. Next to that was a mahogany wardrobe with golden handles on all the drawers. It was an odd, confusing mix of quaint and grandiose.

He looked up at the blond with a hint of bewilderment in his eyes only to receive a nonchalant shrug in response. “You might want to get some sleep,” he suggested, waving a dismissive hand at him. With another click of the fingers, the chain keeping them bound together vanished, though it left a red mark encircling Dipper’s neck. “You’ll probably need your energy later,” he carried on, grabbing Dipper by the arm and pushing him towards the bed.

The real question he wanted to ask was why he’d need his energy but he decided that he probably didn’t want to know, and instead Dipper settled on obediently climbing into the bed but he stayed sitting up and asked him what he was planning on doing while he slept. For some reason his question elicited a smirk and he received no other answer, leaving him even more confused and dissatisfied with his reply. Whether he was happy with it or not, however, he had no choice but to accept it.

“Bill?” He found himself speaking up when the demon perched on the edge of the bed, lying back with his head resting on his chest. Dipper was lying down with his head on the pillow by this point and the blond’s sudden movement had startled him. The only reply he received was an ambiguous groan. “Why did you do it?” He wasn’t sure he’d be given an answer but he was sure that any answer he did get would be just as vague as the others. The last thing he expected was an actual answer that gave him insight into the demon’s real motives.

Shifting his position so that he was lying next to the brunet, though keeping on top of the blanket whilst Dipper was under it, Bill shuffled closer and turned his head to look at him. “Do you know what they were going to do to you? What they were selling you for?” Dipper shook his head, taken aback but also slightly annoyed by the blond’s questions, knowing that he was well aware of how much he knew. “Well, now that I’ve bought you,” the demon smirked, his lips grazing against his earlobe. “I may as well use you the way you were meant to be used.”

Dipper didn’t understand what he meant by that until he woke up, and at that point he realised he didn’t want to understand and that he probably wasn’t supposed to.

It took him a short while to get off to sleep, the light streaming in from the window keeping him awake and serving as a constant reminder that it was in fact only late afternoon and that he had no logical reason to go to sleep so early, but the warmth of the soft, velvety blanket hugging his body soon helped him to push any unpleasant thoughts to the back of his mind. His sleep was seemingly dreamless and he woke up to the feeling of hot breath ghosting against his lips.

The second thing he noticed was that he could no longer feel the velvet blanket against his skin, although the warmth was still there. His eyes blinked open languidly and a lock of golden hair came into view. Then his eyes automatically closed again and something warm came into contact with his lips, his mouth opening instinctively at the feel of it. But before anything else happened, he shot up into a sitting position and stared at the sigh in front of him, flinging his eyes open in the process.

Bill was kneeling on the bed in between his legs, the blanket covering his back. He had rid himself of his gloves, top hat and overcoat, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. “Come on, Pine Tree,” he whined as Dipper swatted his hand away from his thigh. “This is what you were sold to me for.” He paused for a moment, leaning over to place a series of rough kisses against the brunet’s jaw, before Dipper interrupted.

“But why are you doing this to me?” he pleaded, the emphasis on “me”. He was closing his eyes again before he knew it, lying down with his head back as the demon’s teeth tore into his neck.

“Kid,” the blond started, pulling away from him. “Have you ever wondered why I came back here after all this time? To this town, I mean.” Dipper shook his head silently, struggling to fight off the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. He didn’t understand what was happening, what the demon was going to put him through or if he’d ever be able to go back home. All he knew was that the feeling of Bill’s lips on his neck was unsettling, sending chills down his spine. “Let’s just say… you’re the main attraction, kid. I’m here because of you. And now, you’re going to help me with something.”

Dipper spent the next half hour trying to block everything out. He tried not to feel anything and kept his eyes closed the entire time, refusing to even glance at the unforgiving grin plastered onto the blond’s face. But he still felt everything. The demon’s tongue prying his lips apart and forcing its way into his mouth, the way his clothes were torn off him until he was left in nothing but his underwear, and then he felt a hand slip into his underwear and cool fingers wrap themselves around his dick. He hated the way his body instinctively reacted to the demon’s touch, his dick twitching in anticipation and hardening at the contact.

The blond was saying something but he didn’t know what. Probably something arrogant, something about knowing how much he really wanted him even though he was playing hard to get. Bill’s lips were suddenly pressing hard against his, soft moans escaping the demon’s throat as he reached down with his free hand to grab at his own already hardened cock.

Dipper squeezed his eyes shut tighter, silently praying that he’d black out again and that it’d all be over by the time he woke up. Unfortunately, the universe wasn’t on his side that day. His prayers went unanswered.

There was a pause and everything fell silent. Bill withdrew his hand and the brunet struggled to bite back the pitiful whine attempting to force its way out, unsure as to why it was so difficult to convince himself not to feel anything. He felt hatred and contempt, fear, confusion and used. But he also felt a spark of something else. Something that may have been lust. He heard a zip being dragged downwards and then the rustling of clothing being disturbed. His eyes twitched, threatening to open purely out of curiosity but he listened carefully to the voice of reason and kept them closed.

The demon’s mouth was on his again. The blond grabbed his legs with both hands, pulling at him roughly, sliding him further down the bed - making it easier for him to slip off the brunet’s underwear - and then bent his quivering legs at the knees, exposing him. Dipper’s hand shot out on impulse, grasping the velvet blanket with fist and pulling it over him to cover himself up. “Thanks for reminding me about that,” the demon sneered, snatching the blanket off him and throwing it over his shoulder.

Dipper winced and gritted his teeth as something slid into him. Then another, and then a third. At this point they started moving, stretching him, his discomfort growing and growing until eventually they were retracted. But when something thicker, harder and longer shoved itself into him he couldn’t help crying out, unable to stop his tears from flowing freely this time. He resisted the urge to beg the demon to stop no matter how desperate he became.

“Don’t be upset, kid.” Bill’s voice was almost gentle - almost. He kissed him just above the cheeks softly, his tongue darting out to lap up his tears. In another situation, with someone other than Bill Cipher, Dipper could have mistaken it as comforting. “I’m doing this for both of us,” the blond whispered, taking the younger’s hand in his and lacing their fingers together.

“But I don’t want-” Dipper started to protest before common sense kicked in. He’d been lulled into a false sense of security, tricked into believing that Bill really was doing it for a reason other than his own selfish gratification.

“That’s not my problem,” the demon retorted and he started to move his hips slowly, eliciting a muffled cry from the younger. “Then you’ll find out what I’ve had to put up with for the last trillion years.” Dipper didn’t have a chance to figure out what that meant because the blond suddenly started thrusting into him faster, moaning with each buck of his hips. It wasn’t long before his thrusts became even more erratic and his moans grew louder and more uncontrollable. He fell forward, roughly connecting their lips again and dragged a clawed hand down the younger boy’s arm, drawing blood and making him yelp helplessly.

Then he suddenly stopped but his he continued moaning in pleasure, louder than before, and he felt something flooding him, though the tight uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach refused to subside. After a moment, the demon eased himself out of him and collapsed beside him, sweating and panting heavily. “I get it now,” he breathed once he’d gotten his breath back. “I get why you humans like it so much.”

Dipper disagreed. He didn’t understand at all. He felt used and dirty, ashamed of himself like he’d done something wrong even though it was all Bill’s fault. Keeping his eyes shut, he rolled over so that he had his back to the demon and hugged his legs to his chest. His body was sticky with sweat and cum and it hadn’t released any of the pressure the demon had built up inside him. He barely realised when the blanket picked itself up from the floor and wrapped itself around him, covering the two of them in its warm velvet embrace.


	2. The Finest Things

He was alone again now, still lying in the bed he was starting to realise he’d soon have to call his own - and Bill’s, of course - with the thick velvet blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. It was meant to be comforting. It wasn’t. He wasn’t sure exactly when the demon had left or where he’d gotten to, but his clothes were no longer scattered across the floor so he’d probably left the cottage. He was too scared to leave the bed and too ashamed of himself - of what he’d done, of what he’d let happen to him - to try and reach out to Mabel or anyone else. All he had was Bill Cipher, and even he wasn’t around to comfort him.

The tight knot in his stomach had gone by this point, the pressure having subsided but not having been released through pleasurable means. Still, his discomfort had not yet diminished. Clammy hands, beads of cum and sweat clinging to his legs and stomach. His body was too hot but he kept the blanket wrapped around him, hating the heat but fearing the cold. Turning his head to the side, he saw his clothes lying there in a heap on the floor by the bed, reminding him of the feeling of them being torn off his body and then the demon’s lips attacking his.

He needed a shower. Even if it couldn’t rid him of the repulsive feeling of the blond’s hands on his body, violating every inch of him, at least it would get rid of the disgusting stickiness. Keeping the blanket draped over his shoulders, covering his entire body and hiding him from whoever might be watching, not that there was anyone else around to see him, he crawled out of the bed and trudged towards the door on the opposite side of the room.

A large white porcelain bath stared back at him. No shower. The bright blue tiles covering the floor sparkled as a glimmer of light streaming in from a nearby window reflected off them. The tiles were cold to the touch, which he discovered when he tentatively stepped onto them, their coolness biting at his bare feet as he walked across to the bath. While he waited for the bath to fill up with water, he washed his face a few times and using a cloth he found draped over the edge of the sink and happened to catch sight of himself in the mirror. 

He sighed in despair at the sight of his reflection. A red mark was drawn across his neck from where the collar Bill had made him wear had dug into his flesh, and his hair was stuck to his face with sweat. Bill had reduced him to a quivering mess and he’d lain back and let it happen.

Once the bath was ready he let the blanket fall to the floor and climbed in, laying back as the hot water seeped into his skin. He detested being alone. There was nothing for him to do but think, and all he could think about was Bill and how he’d used him. Anything would have been better than this - even having the demon use him again. At least then he’d have something to concentrate on. He’d be too busy trying to block out the sensations of the blond thrusting in and out of him to think about what was happening and why.

A cloud of red mist appeared in the water near his arm as a few droplets of blood diffused into the clear water from the scratch that Bill had left him with. Trying his best to ignore it, he washed his hair with the shampoo he found on the side of the bath and then grabbed at the cloth he’d used to wash his face, scrubbing away at every inch of his skin - paying special attention to the parts of his body the demon’s cum had found its way onto, as if he thought it would make the feeling of it clinging to him disappear.

A soft, clean white towel was waiting for him on the rack attached to the wall opposite the bath when he got out. Snatching it up, he wrapped it around himself and turned to walk back into the bedroom, stopping when he saw something papery pinned to the door. A note. From Bill. Apparently he had to put the collar he’d been wearing earlier back on - he swallowed nervously as he glanced at the metal collar (without the chain, this time) and his throat immediately closed up at the sight of it, making it difficult to breathe - and the demon would know, somehow, if he didn’t do as he was he told.

His stomach churned as he reached out and picked up the collar, which was lying on a tray beside the door. He hadn’t noticed it before. Lining it up with his throat, he brought it closer to him and it clipped together at the back of his neck automatically, tightening around his neck. It would definitely leave another mark, if he was ever allowed to take it off again.

After drying himself with the towel, he hung it back up on the rack in the bathroom and dressed himself, picking up his clothes from the floor and wincing as he put them back on, automatically thinking back to when the blond was ripping them off him. The blanket was still lying on the bathroom floor and so he went back into the bathroom to pick it up and lay it neatly on the bed, assuming that Bill wouldn’t be happy to return to a messy room.

Now that he had gotten out of bed and moved around a bit, he felt somewhat more confident in wandering around the cottage and therefore decided that, as he hadn’t had the time to explore it before, he’d do it now. The kitchen was where he went to first, a subconscious message inside his brain telling him that he hadn’t eaten in hours and needed to fill his stomach with something. He found a plate of roast chicken and vegetable on the kitchen table, waiting for him. A knife and fork had been placed at the side of the plate and the table was covered in a blue table cloth adorned with golden triangles at the edges. Typical, Dipper mentally commented.

But despite his disgust that the demon was the one who’d prepared his food, he sat down and ate it eagerly. It was possible that Bill wasn’t all bad - he had protected him from being sold to a stranger who only wanted to use him for sex after all, and he was giving him the things he needed to survive. Maybe he was just misguided.

That thought - which he now considered preposterous - left his mind as soon as he’d finished his meal and he sat back in his chair, suddenly feeling tired again. He wondered when the blond would be coming back. Luckily, his loneliness was cut short before it became crippling.

He thought it was strange for the demon to be knocking on the front door of the cottage he owned until he realised it wasn’t the demon at all, but his sister. He opened the door to Mabel’s smiling face and saw Soos standing behind her. Naturally, his immediate reaction - as well as to ask how on earth they managed to find him, and so quickly too - was to rush out and hug her, but the moment his foot collided with the stone step on the porch an agonising bolt of electricity was sent flying round his body, stemming from the collar around his neck. It became clear then why he’d been told to where it. To stop him from leaving.

He jumped back straight away, avoiding suffering through another jab of pain, and turned back to Mabel and Soos. “How did you find me?” he blurted out, overcome with shock and relief.

“Soos thought he saw you heading this way,” Mabel explained, instinctively stepping over the threshold to move closer to her brother. “And then we saw you through the window. Where’s the triangle guy?” she asked hurriedly, confusion and concern taking over. 

“Yeah, and what’s that thing on your neck?” Soos chimed in, stepping forward so that he and Mabel were side by side.

Dipper answered his sister’s question first. “He’s out doing god only knows what,” he told her, his voice becoming shaky at the mention of the demon. Then he quickly turned to Soos, eager to stop talking about Bill. “It’s some kind of electric shock collar, I think. I can’t leave…” he trailed off and hung his head, realising that Bill could come back at any time and would probably do terrible things to Soos and Mabel if they tried to help him. Mabel suggested - rather blatantly - that he simply took the collar off, but he knew the demon was watching him. He was always watching. Even if he succeeded in getting away, Bill would only turn up again and do something even worse to him and his family; he’d probably lock them all up somewhere much worse than the cottage and torture them if they put a toe out of line.

“You should probably just leave,” he muttered, and then repeated it in a louder voice when he became aware that they hadn’t understood what he’d said. “You have to go. He could come back at any time…” Mabel tried to protest but he cut her off before she could even choke a single word out. “Let the others know where I am and maybe you could come back here another time, but he’s been gone for hours and he’ll be back soon. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

He turned away so that he couldn’t see the sadness in Mabel’s eyes as she left, reluctant and dejected. Soos followed after her wordlessly, leaving him alone in the cottage once again. He was closing the door behind him when something slammed into his chest, pinning him against the door.

Blond hair fell in front of his eyes and he found himself gazing into a single golden eye, glowing with malicious intent. “So you tried to leave.” Bill’s voice was shaking and he guessed it wasn’t out of fear. He had one hand on his arm, pinning it against the door, and the other was by his side and balled into a fist. “I would have thought you’d know better than that, Pine Tree. I may have come to your rescue once, kid, but there’s no-one here to protect you from me.”

Dipper felt a sharp tug on his hair and yelped in pain on instinct, momentarily drowning out the sound of the demon’s heavy breathing. He brought his hands up to the blond’s chest, prepared to shove him away if necessary, but all he succeeded in doing was eliciting a shrill chuckle from him. He couldn’t help thinking that if he hadn’t sent Mabel and Soos away, this wouldn’t have been happening. Maybe they would have been able to get away from him, and would it really be so bad if he caught up to them later on? He would have at least been able to savour a few last moments of freedom, even if Bill stole those moments away from him soon after.

“Yeah, maybe should have let them stay,” the blond laughed cruelly, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Then I could have made them watch. Still, isn’t it more fun when it’s just us?” He lowered his voice and suddenly became eerily quiet, as if he was pondering what to do with him next. Then, without a word, he grabbed him by the arms and dragged him into the living room, throwing him down on the cream-coloured rug in the centre of the wooden floor. 

He hit his head as he crashed into the floor, wincing in pain as he rubbed the back of his head. But then Bill was straddling him and leaning over him, his fingers fiddling with a dial on the back of his metal collar. He said nothing, but glowered at him with a vindictive smirk on his face. For a moment, he thought the demon was going to kiss him again, but nothing happened until the blond pushed himself off him and stood up, falling back to collapse onto the sofa behind him. Even as he moved away, he kept his gaze fixed on the brunet, his smirk growing more and more malevolent with every second that passed.

The uncertainty of what was going to happen to him taking over him, Dipper lay there on the floor, completely still as his muscles tensed in fear and anticipation. Then, it happened - what he’d been waiting for. Without warning, a bolt of electricity was sent rattling around his body, the collar clearly to blame - or rather, whatever the demon had done to it. It was so much worse than it had been before. It wasn’t just one bolt. They just kept coming and he was reduced to a trembling, sobbing mess within seconds.

How long it went on for was a mystery to him. Bill laughed the entire time, apparently unable to get enough of what should have been the distressing sight before him, though it was clear he didn’t find it distressing at all. He was loving every minute of it.

And then, just as Dipper was reaching his breaking point, he leaned forwards and clicked his fingers, causing the electric current to fizzle away and the pain in his body to cease. A tiny spark of agony still remained, however, reminding him that Bill would always be following him around like a dark cloud hanging above his head. He caught sight of the demon sitting there, staring at him, and cowered, rolling over onto his side and facing away from him. He rubbed at his reddened eyes with his hands, drying his tears, and then folded his arms across his chest.

When the blond spoke to him again, the smirk on his face evident in his voice. He didn’t sound angry anymore, his voice steady with traces of malice woven into every word he spat out at him. “Don’t go thinking I’m finished with you yet, Pine Tree.” He laughed when he saw Dipper shudder in response and moved to kneel beside him on the floor, entangling his fingers in his dark hair and jerking his head towards him, forcing him to look him in the eye. 

Dipper’s eyes widened when a small, delicate yet lethal-looking knife manifested in the demon’s left hand, his fingers gripping the silver handle tightly as he lifted it up and pressed it firmly against his arm. “What are you going to do?” he choked out, his voice quivering with fear. He’d been foolish enough to believe the violence had ended when he stopped feeling the bolts of electricity produced by his collar surging through his veins. He knew now what an idiot he’d been. Although he hoped it could only get better, a voice at the back of his mind told him it would only ever get worse.

He was lost in his thoughts when Bill made the first cut: a short, horizontal gash across his wrist. Somehow he managed not to hit a vital vein or artery. A sharp burst of pain invaded him and his thoughts scattered, the only notion he could grab onto being the single word “pain”. Recognising that he was under attack again, his heart began working overtime, thudding inside his ribcage with increasing speed; each pulse was like a crash of thunder.

Another cut. A third. Both of them straight lines. Blood bubbled out from his wounds, dripping down his arm. Bill groaned and gritted his teeth, muttering something about not being able to see properly. The knife stabbed at Dipper’s arm, piercing his skin a final time, and then the demon withdrew it and announced that he’d finished.

By the time Dipper looked down at what the blond had done to his arm, the demon was gazing down at his bloody work of art with pride, as if he thought it was a priceless masterpiece. On his arm was a bloody triangle with a crimson eye in the middle of it, an image of Bill Cipher himself. “We don’t want anyone thinking you don’t belong to me now, do we, Pine Tree?” the blond grinned, lifting up the knife to inspect it. Dipper watched in horror as he brought the blade up to his lips and his tongue darted out and lapped up the blood dripping off it. It was a wonder he didn’t stick the blade down his throat thinking he could eat it, judging by the way he was gulping down the blood.

The sight made Dipper feel sick and yet he still sat there watching him, somehow hoping he’d stop at any moment. But he only set the blade back down once it was completely clean of any red stains and he looked down at Dipper with a grin, his gaze automatically fixating itself on the boy’s arm. “Isn’t it just the finest thing you’ve ever seen? I should be an artist,” he smiled proudly, clearly impressed with his work even though Dipper didn’t consider it any sort of accomplishment.

“You’re demented,” Dipper snapped at him, suddenly overcome with a surge of unwarranted confidence.

Bill only laughed at him. “Careful, kid. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place.” He gestured to the cuts on his arm and then frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in discontent. “Get up. Get up before you bleed all over my rug.” Now Dipper was the one frowning, barely able to believe that Bill Cipher of all people - people? - was a neat freak, but he did as he was told all the same and stood up, following him out of the room.

Grabbing him by the hand, the demon pulled him up the stairs and turned to look at him when they reached the door to the bedroom. “You wanna know what I was doing all that time I was away?” he asked with a mischievous tone of voice.

Dipper wasn’t sure that he did, and yet he was nodding his head before he knew it.


	3. Appetite

He expected Bill to open the door straight away once he’d replied, assuming that whatever he’d been doing earlier had something to do with their bedroom, but instead the door remained closed and he took his hand away from it, leaning against it and suddenly… He was in pain. At least, he looked as if he was in pain. He hung his head and gritted his teeth, snarling, but not in anger. Alarmed, Dipper took a hesitant step back, unsure of what he was meant to do. He didn’t know what was happening to the demon but felt a pang of concern all the same, even though he was fairly certain the blond didn’t deserve his concern.

Eventually, after doubling over for a minute or so, the demon straightened up again and - the snarl remaining on his face - demanded that the brunet told him what was happening to him. Dipper could do nothing but shrug and apologise (more out of fear of what Bill would do if he wasn’t polite than out of genuine courtesy and respect) as he explained that, being unable to feel what he was experiencing, he really had no idea what was going on.

Bill didn’t take the news well. He raised his hand and for a moment Dipper thought he was going to hit him, but then he turned and slammed his fist into the wall behind him instead, muttering something incoherent under his breath. “Damn humans and their… sensations,” he grumbled furiously, his hand coiling around Dipper’s wrist as his fingers clawed at the bloodied skin of his arm. “Just tell me what’s happening to me!”

“But I-” Dipper’s muscles tensed and he suddenly became more alert, aware of the potential danger - any wrong answer, any mistake he made could end in serious injury or even death. The electric collar he was being made to wear and the bloody mark carved into his arm proved how unstable the demon was. How much worse could it get?

And more importantly, how was he going to be able to understand what the blond was feeling, without experience it himself? It was clear the demon wasn’t going to let the subject drop without having an explanation for the unusual sensations and probably a solution to it too. Now that he thought about it, it couldn’t have been pain. Bill actually enjoyed pain. He probably thought it was pleasant and he definitely thought it was hilarious. Whatever he was feeling now, however, certainly wasn’t pleasant.

“No, it’s not pleasant!” Bill practically yelled, stopping to lick the blood off his fingers, at which point his snarl was momentarily replaced with a satisfied smile. “It’s… It’s uncomfortable,” he continued, knowing that the brunet was silently wondering what the unpleasant sensation was like. “Here.” He put both his hands on his stomach, letting go of Dipper’s arm.

Dipper’s face broke into a small smile as he let out a sigh of relief, realising the source of the blond’s discomfort. “You’re hungry,” he said simply, and nodded in the direction of the stairs, adding, “You need to go and eat something” when he saw the demon’s look of confusion. The blond followed him down the stairs wordlessly, oddly compliant with his instruction. He led him into the kitchen where Bill sat down at the table, staring at the empty plate in front of him. “Didn’t you make the chicken I ate earlier?” Dipper asked, clearly confused by the demon’s apparent lack of understanding.

“Oh, that,” Bill drawled, clicking his fingers immediately, causing a new plate carrying the same meal Dipper had eaten earlier to replace the one in front of him. He picked up the knife and fork beside the plate hesitantly, staring at them in awe and wonder. His instincts told him to stick the fork into the chicken breast and so he did as he assumed he was meant to, but then had no idea what to do with the knife. It didn’t look sharp enough to be used as a weapon. Discarding it, he picked up the chicken using the fork and automatically held it up to his eye, but Dipper stopped him and tentatively took the fork away from him, a look of horror plastered on his face.

Shaking his head, he proceeded to slide the fork away from the chicken breast and then cut it up into small pieces, setting the cutlery down on the side of the plate once he’d finished. The blond watched him carefully, taking note of every movement he made, and then picked up the fork in his left hand speared one of the pieces of chicken with it, holding it up to his eye again which resulted in another sigh from the brunet. Without speaking, Dipper took it from him again and held it up to the demon’s lips, at which point Bill suddenly seemed to understand. Parting his lips, he allowed the brunet to feed him the piece of chicken, chewing it up and swallowing it, before taking over.

He didn’t know how to respond to Dipper’s kindness, just as Dipper didn’t know how to respond to his helplessness. 

Once he’d finished eating, Bill sat with his arms folded across his chest, gazing at the boy opposite him. “Thank you, I guess,” he muttered passively, in such a way that Dipper thought he must have been reluctant to express anything but hatred towards him. He leaned across the table, sitting forwards in his chair, and a glimmer of mischief lit up his golden eye. “I’m almost impressed. You deserve a little reward, I should think.”

Dipper’s heart leapt for a moment and then his hope almost instantly shattered. This was Bill Cipher he was dealing with. A reward to Bill may have been nothing like what a human would consider a reward. If he thought pain was hilarious, maybe he thought slicing him up into a million pieces would be fun for him. As his gaze lowered to the messy sight of the demon’s artwork on his arm, Dipper pondered asking for a bandage of some kind. That could be his reward. Something to stop the bleeding.

“Absolutely not,” the demon insisted, adopting his usual tone of voice again. Harsh, not at all like the almost gentle being he’d come across as a moment ago. Then he cocked his head and smiled a bittersweet smile. “We wouldn’t want to cover up my beautiful piece of artwork now, would we? Everyone has to know that you belong to me. I paid for you, remember? And you were expensive,” he added.

Dipper barely noticed when he pulled up from his seat and dragged back upstairs, only snapping out of his trance when he was pushed onto the bed and a wine glass full of a sweet-smelling purple liquid was being thrust towards him. “You must be thirsty,” the demon grinned, adamant that he drank it. Dipper took the glass from him but didn’t drink out of it, asking what it was first. The blond refused to give him a straight answer and eventually he gave in and gulped it down, thirst taking control of his actions. He’d barely drunk anything since he’d been kidnapped the day before. Whatever it was, the drink was thicker than he’d imagined and tasted as sweet as its aroma suggested.

“So you really wanna know what I was doing all that time I was gone?” This time Dipper nodded eagerly, curiosity having gotten to him, as he turned to look at the demon sitting next to him on the bed with his legs dangling over the edge. “Torturing your uncle, naturally,” Bill replied casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He saw Dipper tense up and laughed. “Relax, kid, I didn’t really hurt him. Just a bit of emotional discomfort, that’s all.”

By this point, Dipper was becoming less interested in what the blond had to say. His body was heating up and he had no idea why. The demon took the empty glass from him, grinned, and it promptly disappeared. Dipper didn’t even notice. He was too distracted by what was happening to his body to focus on anything else. His heart was starting to race, his breathing starting to quicken even though he didn’t feel scared. “I didn’t just go to see your uncle,” the blond boy went on, his voice barely more than a faint whisper in the background as far as Dipper was concerned.

“What did you do to me?” he snapped suddenly, feeling familiar beads of sweat clinging to the palms of his hands. “What was in that drink?” Then he felt his blood rushing to the southern half of his body and realised exactly what he’d done to him.

“Just a little something,” the demon mused, leaning over to remove the collar from Dipper’s neck. He glanced down at the bulge in the brunet’s shorts and a sadistic smirk crept onto his face. “Here’s your reward,” he drawled wistfully, pushing the younger boy back so that he was lying flat on the bed, his head resting on one of the pillows. Dipper swatted him away and squirmed in both discomfort and anxiety, but the demon persisted forcibly pushed his legs apart, kneeling in between them. “Just relax, Pine Tree. You didn’t let yourself enjoy it last time.”

Dipper’s breath hitched at the back of his throat and he tried to roll over onto his side and curl up but Bill was too strong to fight off and so he reluctantly gave in, but protested as to the demon’s involvement with his so-called “reward.” “I can do it myself, you know,” he whined, swallowing a moan as he felt the blond’s hand lightly pressing against him. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He didn’t know what he expected to happen but the demon took no notice of his protests, resulting in him repeating himself. This time Bill looked up at him for a moment, glared, and the clicked his fingers. Dipper’s arms were suddenly thrown above his head, a rusted blue chain coiling around each wrist and attaching his arms to the bedposts either side of him. He pulled at the chains, rattling them, but it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to prise them off.

Bill was smirking again. “Really? You can do it without me?” he grinned, standing up from the bed and heading towards the door as Dipper watched, eyes wide in shock. “Let me know when you change your mind.” With that, he vanished through the door, leaving Dipper alone with an ache he couldn’t alleviate.

For what felt like an eternity, Dipper lay still on the bed, fighting off the temptation to even attempt to relieve the tension building up inside him. He focused on his surroundings, staring up at the tiled ceiling to take his mind off the pressure whatever Bill had done to his drink had induced, but only ever managed to go a couple of minutes before his concentration shifted back to the bulge growing between his thighs. Even if he couldn’t use his hands, there had to be some way of finding a release. He half turned onto his side in desperation, rubbing his legs together slowly and moaning softly at the slight release of pressure, but the discomfort of his twisting his body into such an unnatural position quickly proved to be too hard for him endure and so he lay flat on his back again, still rubbing his legs together in a fit of desperation.

But his mind was already screaming out at Bill.

The door stayed closed but suddenly Bill was in front of him on the bed again, prising his legs apart and kneeling in between them. Without a word, his hands flew to the waistband of the younger’s shorts and he was soon left wearing only his t-shirt, his hardened dick pressing flat against his stomach, pre-cum leaking out and soaking his shirt. The demon sat back and smirked, admiring the sight laid out before him. But then Dipper let out a frustrated grunt and interrupted his thoughts.

His attention now having been drawn back to the present situation, the blond looked down at him almost sympathetically and wrapped a hand around the base of his exposed cock, causing a sudden wave of pleasure to wash over the younger boy. He was just thinking that the demon must have had an insatiable sexual appetite, considering how fixated he seemed to be on the idea of both of them experience such sensations, when the warmth of Bill’s mouth enclosing around the tip of his cock took him by surprise and he jerked his head backwards in shock.

A voice in the back of his mind was yelling at him to stop, telling him that he was making a big mistake and that he should have been able to go without giving into his lust. He ignored it. He ignored the guilt, the knowledge that he should have been stronger, that he shouldn’t have given in so damn easily. It was all still there, in the darkest corner of his mind, but the the pleasure the demon’s tongue was providing him with was drowning it all out. All he could think about was the way the blond’s tongue was gliding over the skin of the underside of his dick and the way he was sucking on him, hard but more gently than he’d thought the demon would be capable of.

A gasp escaped his lips as he suddenly felt even more heat engulf him, the demon sliding almost the entire length of his dick down his throat and humming. He felt himself getting closer to the release he was craving and instinctively bucked his hips towards the blond’s mouth, pushing himself further down the demon’s throat. He let out a moan and tried to reach out and grab his hair, intending to push his head his down, but all he succeeded in doing was rattling the chains attached to his arms.

Writhing on his back, he purred in satisfaction as he came, panting heavily and continuing to move his hips until the short burst of gratification finally dwindled and ceased. Bill still hadn’t stopped sucking on him, his tongue repeatedly gliding against the underside of his cock as his teeth grazed against it. With a quiet, almost disappointed whine, the demon pulled away and looked down at him with a smirk, his tongue darting out to lap up the few remaining drops of cum dotting his lower lip.

The ever-present feeling of guilt taking over him again, Dipper looked back at him sheepishly and then quickly turned his head away in embarrassment. His arms were aching and he was still struggling to breathe. Lack of food and drink was getting to him and he stifled a yawn, breathing a sigh of relief when the blond clicked his fingers and released him from the chains that confined him. He curled up and hugged himself in attempt to cover himself up. The demon suddenly appeared next to him and wrapped the soft velvet blanket around him, covering his bare legs, and laid down next to him, his chest pressed up against the younger’s back.

“You okay, kid?” he asked in a way which meant he could have been mistaken for someone tender and considerate had Dipper not known already what he was like. Dipper nodded, still avoiding eye contact (his face was buried in his hands), but it was obvious even to a demon with limited understanding of human emotions that he wasn’t telling the truth. The blond put a warm hand on his chest but quickly realised he didn’t know what to do next and so withdrew his hand, gazing at him with confusion in his eye.

Dipper shivered under the feeling of the demon’s hand and curled up even more. He didn’t know how to feel. Everything the blond did or said seemed to go against what he thought he already knew about him. It was paradoxical. One minute he was putting him through torture for daring to attempt to leave the house, and the next he was asking if he was alright. He wasn’t. Surely Bill must have known that?


	4. The Bad Guy

Days had passed and not much had changed. The demon left him alone for half the day and came back early in the evening. He always left food out for him when he left and they both ate together when he returned. Dipper was impressed with how well the demon seemed to be getting on in his human body, even though he was still desperate for answers whenever he felt something new. Like right now, for example, as he stared a stray cat that had wandered into the cottage during the afternoon and kept Dipper company throughout the day.

Its fur was blacker than the night’s sky and its eyes were large and round with awe, its emerald green irises ensuring that all gazes were fixed on it. When Bill came back to the cottage that evening, Dipper was sitting on the floor in the living room with the cat curled up in his lap. Bill’s initial reaction, when he strode into the room with a wide Cheshire Cat-like grin on his face, was shock. As far as he was concerned, he’d never given anyone else permission to enter his and Dipper’s abode and the small animal was an intruder. He gritted his teeth and his body tensed, but then his gaze softened as he noticed the relaxed expression on the younger’s body face.

Dipper was so busy concentrating on the cat as he gently stroked its head that he failed to notice the demon’s presence until Bill decided to make it known. He cleared his throat, attracting the younger attention, and then slowly took a few cautious steps towards him, his gaze fixed on the so-called intruder. Even for him, this apprehensive behaviour was odd and slightly unnerving - so much so that Dipper felt the need to call him out on it.

He opened his mouth to ask what he was doing when the cat woke up from its peaceful slumber, jumped up from his lap and trotted over to the blond, who had by this point perched himself on the edge of the sofa and he flinched when he saw the animal move. “What is that thing doing?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady as he shuffled back on the sofa, getting as far away from the cat as the sofa would allow.

Fighting off the temptation to hiss at him - knowing it would only make his situation worse - Dipper reached across and picked the cat up, cradling the small animal in his arms. “She’s just a cat,” he told him, speaking in a calm, gentle tone for the cat’s benefit though he was sure it would probably help with the demon as well. “I call her Star,” he added when Bill failed to respond.

“I know what it is!” the blond snapped at him, though he couldn’t help noticing how his reply was slightly delayed and how his hands trembled as he spoke, his golden stare still trained on the black cat in his arms.

The cat started to purr and Dipper patted her head, but the sudden noise resulted in the demon moving even further away from them as he stood up from the sofa and hurried over to the door. He turned to stare at the younger boy and the cat but kept one hand on the door handle, prepared to leave the room if he deemed it necessary. “Why is it making that noise?” He paused for a moment and before Dipper had the chance to explain that cats purred when they were happy or content he rambled on. “Why did you let that thing in here in the first place? I never said it could-”

He stopped halfway through, cutting himself off midway through his sentence, and tilted his head onto one side as the boy leaned down to place a gentle kiss on top of the cat’s head, the purr loudening in response. “I haven’t asked you for anything,” Dipper mumbled, realising his make a moment too late. But it was true. He hadn’t asked the demon for anything and he hadn’t even complained about the way he was treating him in spite of his fears - and also partly because of those very same fears - so allowing him to have a cat in the house so he wasn’t alone for half the day shouldn’t have been too difficult a task. 

Then again, this was Bill Cipher he was thinking about. And Bill Cipher didn’t anything unless it was sure to make his life a living hell, it seemed.

“You want to keep it? Fine.” That was definitely not the response Dipper had been expecting from him - the opposite, in fact - although the way in which he spoke contrasted with the words coming out of his mouth. “But you have to look after it yourself. And don’t let it in our bedroom.” The blond had his arms folded across his chest and he spun round without a moment’s hesitation, storming off somewhere and leaving Dipper kneeling on the floor with the cat - Star - sitting next to him and staring at the now empty space that Bill’s human body had once filled.

Dipper called out after him, asking him to come back. He wasn’t going to be content with keeping an animal the demon didn’t want around, the idea that Bill would somehow use the cat against him if he didn’t develop any sort of emotional connection with it - if that was even possible - lingering in the back of his mind. Bill reappeared in the doorway a moment later and he tilted his head, asking what he wanted.

Albeit hesitantly, Dipper beckoned to him without a word and when the demon stayed hovering in the doorway, ignoring his request, he stood up and carried the cat over to him. The blond instinctively took a step back but his curiosity was piqued by the younger’s surprising calmness and he forced himself to stay where he was, allowing the younger to hold the cat out to him. “Stroke it,” Dipper suggested quietly, sounding as far away from demanding as humanly possible. Their gazes met but Bill’s hand stayed by his side until the younger reached out and lightly wrapped his hand around the demon’s wrist, lifting up his hand until he was stroking the cat’s head with a gentleness he’d never experience before.

But to Dipper’s dismay, he withdrew his hand immediately and snarled. “I don’t like it. I’ve changed my mind. Get that thing out of my house.” Then he turned on his heel and walked over to the front door, opening it without touching it and signalling for Dipper to rid the cottage of the animal. Dipper did as he was told but gritted his teeth in resentment while he did it. He heard Star crying through the door as he closed it but forced himself not to care. His aggression could be directed towards the demon, after all, and there was no point in torturing himself by staying to listen to Star’s cries.

Once he’d closed the door and turned his back on it, Bill called him into the kitchen and he followed the demon’s command aimlessly. He was getting good at doing that; it was starting to come naturally to him. Over the last few days all he’d done was follow the blond’s orders and, during the hours he spent alone, waiting for more to orders to be barked at him. 

They ate their dinner in silence. As they sat opposite one another, Dipper kept his head bowed and his gaze fixated on the food on his plate - which he hardly ate, simply picking at it and playing with it, only eating about half of it - while the demon sat and stared across at him with a cold yet slightly confused gaze. “Why aren’t you eating?” he demanded, just after swallowing the last remaining piece of food on his own plate. Without looking up at him, Dipper simply shrugged and put down his fork.

He glanced up at the blond, wincing when their eyes met, and then pushed away his plate and stood up, wordlessly heading towards their bedroom. He needed an early night, not that Bill had let him have one ever since he’d claimed ownership of him. Like always, the demon followed him up the stairs and watched him brush his teeth from the doorway of the ensuite bathroom, stretching out his arm and blocking his path when he attempted to walk past him once he’d finished.

“You know the rules, Pine Tree,” he hissed into the younger boy’s ear. “It’s too early to sleep. But since we’re here…” He slid his hand down to the waistband of the brunet’s shorts and smirked as he felt Dipper’s body instantly tense up. Still smirking, he leaned in to capture the boy’s lips with his own but Dipper instinctively shook his head, narrowly avoiding his lips.

He expected Bill to grab him and force himself on him but this time he seemed to notice something was wrong and released his grip, though he kept one arm loosely wrapped around his waist so he wouldn’t try to get away. “I want to see Mabel again. I don’t want…” he trailed off, cutting himself off before he said something that would fuel the demon’s anger and dropped his gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact.

With a slight gentleness, the blond slipped his hand into his and led him over to the bed. “You can see her - tomorrow. You can go back tomorrow.” Dipper’s face lit up for a split second before he realised how odd - and untrustworthy - the demon’s offer was, and then his heart sunk as reality crashed into him; there had to be a catch. “While I’m away,” Bill added, making the younger’s face fall slightly at the realisation that he would not be allowed to stay at the Mystery Shack for longer than a few hours. “Of course, you’ll have to be back here by six. Would…” He trailed off as he scanned Dipper’s face, searching for emotion and trying hard to recognise what he was feeling. “Would you like that?”

Dipper nodded wordlessly, acknowledging the demon’s attempt at showing compassion. It wasn’t much but at least he’d be able to go back to where he felt he belonged. At least he’d be able to see his family and friends again, even if it was only for a short while. He lay down on his side, with his back to the blond, but his body stiffened at the thought that there was still every chance of Bill forcing him to do something he didn’t want to be a part of.

His anxiety only increased when the demon turned him over onto his back and clicked his fingers, the chains that had previously confined both this arms to the bed posts returning in an instant, but he was at the time unaware that he had nothing to fear. “Just some precautions,” the blond drawled, his gaze hardening as any hint of empathy or kindness that had once existed within his golden eye faded away into hate and callousness. Crawling in between the younger’s thighs, he lowered his lips to roughly kiss his neck before pulling away, dragging his talon-like fingernails across his wrist with the hope of eliciting some kind of tortured response. He succeeded.

“Sleep for as long as you like,” he added as he straightened up his back and stepped off the bed. He stood there for a minute or two, watching as the younger boy shut his eyes tightly and grimaced, waiting for an attack. The attack never came, however, and instead the bottom of the bed dipper under the demon’s weight and then, after nothing else happened for several minutes, he relaxed and sleep came.

\---------------------------

Maybe Bill wasn’t such a villain, he pondered as he stepped out of the front door and into the path of a cool breeze bringing the sweet smell of freshly cut grass and fragrant flowers his way. The summer sky was blue and cloudless and, even though the black green-eyed cat he’d named Star wasn’t waiting for him by the door like he’d hoped she would be, things were starting to get better - or so he thought. Bill had surprised him not only by allowing him to leave the cottage (though he’d definitely be keeping a close eye on him while he was away) but also by not taking advantage of him the night before.

A small smile spread itself across his face as he started heading in the direction of the Mystery Shack. He was glad of the opportunity to experience the outside world first-hand again, and of the chance to see his family - especially Mabel. He’d missed her a great deal over the last few days and was hurt that she hadn’t been back to see him since their last encounter.

As he set off, he didn’t think to consider the possibility that Bill wasn’t the bad guy in his life, that there was somebody else even more dangerous to him and that perhaps Bill was someone he could trust completely - with his life, even.

So it came to him as a massive shock when, as he was walking through the woods in search of his Grunkle Stan’s and Grunkle Ford’s home, a pair of hands grabbed him from behind and then gave him a harsh shove to the back, knocking him to the ground. His head smashed into the base of a nearby tree and his breath hitched in the back of his throat. “Bill,” he growled - or tried to growl - through a set of gritted teeth, immediately jumping to the conclusion that he was the one assaulting him. Maybe he’d changed his mind or maybe this had been his plan all along, but Dipper was sure it was him until he caught a glimpse of his attacker’s striking blue hair and two narrow eyes with irises the colour of charcoal.

He lay there panting on the ground, his head propped up against the tree trunk he’d crashed into, and gazed up at his attacker, who was bending over him in a long black overcoat with the hood pulled up over his face. Protruding from the hem of his right sleeve was the clean, silver blade of an unused knife. Every instinct in Dipper’s body told him to get up and run before his attacker had the chance to put that knife to good use but he was frozen with fear, his body trembling no matter how hard he tried to keep it still. His legs felt as though they were as heavy as lead and so even as his attacker leaned down and sneered at him, he didn’t have the strength to get away.

And when his stomach was suddenly struck with a piercing feeling of agony as he felt the blade of his attacker’s knife sinking into his flesh, penetrating his skin and tearing his body open, he still couldn’t find the strength to do anything but cry out in pain and clutch his side, smearing blood all over his hands in the process.

The bloodied knife dropped to the ground and Dipper blinked for no more than a split second. What followed sped by in a blur. A flash of gold darted across his field of vision and then the figure in the black overcoat was splattered with crimson before vanishing before his eyes. By this point Dipper was coming to realise that even if Bill Cipher was the most dangerous creature there was, it was always better to be liked by him than to make an enemy of him.

A look of confusion flashed across the blond’s face when his gaze landed on his bloodied hands and the part of his t-shirt that was soaked in blood as it seeped out of the open wound in his side, and Dipper’s mind immediately screamed at him that there was no such thing as good anymore. Maybe everyone was a bad guy.


	5. Losing Sleep

The air above him was cold though his body was warm, soothingly so. And wet. He could feel his dark hair sticking to the back of his head. There was something on his leg - his right leg, just above his knee. It was hot - warmer than his body - and soft, like a piece of cotton fabric. He moved his fingertips, just a little, just to see if he could. The body of water surrounding his body shifted as he did, the sound of it moving trickling into his senses. The rest of his body was stiff and numb. His eyelids twitched, part of him wanting to open them and examine everything around him, allowing him to deduce where he was and what was going on.

Everything was dark and although it was dimly lit, he knew where was immediately. The bathroom of the cottage Bill had created. This was where he’d been living ever since the day he’d been abducted and sold to the demon and where he would presumably be living for the rest of his life, however long that proved to be. On the one hand, he suspected the blond would want to keep him alive for as long as possible in order to ensure that he suffered as much as could but on the other, the demon seemed to have a habit of getting bored of things quickly. Then again, he hadn’t gotten bored of Ford yet, and he’d been one of Bill’s playthings for decades.

He was lying in the bath with the blond standing over him. He couldn’t see what was pressed against his leg (he tried to sit up but failed, finding that he was unable to move at all aside from his eyes and fingertips) but he guessed it was some sort of cloth, though he had no idea what the demon was doing with it. He was moving it, sliding it up and down the same part of his thigh in an almost delicate matter.

Dipper’s heart slammed against his ribcage inside his chest as it dawned on him that he couldn’t move - Bill could do anything at all to him and he wouldn’t be able to even attempt to fight him off - and then images of the last things he had witnessed before blacking out flashed up in front of his mind’s eye. He remembered the excruciating agony he had felt as something silver speared his stomach, the crimson splatter that had decorated his attacker and… gold. It must have been Bill. Bill was the one who’d come to protect him, against all odds.

The warm piece of fabric disappeared from his leg and the blond sidled over to other end of the bath, kneeling down on the tiled floor and lowering his head so that their faces were almost touching. Neither of them said anything; Dipper’s lips were numb and he was unable to move them, and Bill seemed to be content with peering down at him curiously.

Dipper didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. A part of him was suspicious, wary of the demon’s motivations even though he appeared to be concerned about him (not that he believed the blond’s supposed concern was actually genuine), and afraid of what was going to happen to him while he was unable to move, as well as of what had already happened to him before he’d lost consciousness. He couldn’t remember it all and what he could remember was horrifying. But then, at the other end of the spectrum was the part of him that was completely taken in by the demon’s act of chivalry and thought there should be no reason for further apprehensions. Bill had changed or maybe he’d always been that way. He cared about him and would continue to do so, forever. That’s the side of him Dipper wanted to believe but it was, naturally, a preposterous suggestion. No matter how Bill acted around him, no matter how much he appeared to care for him, he could never trust him completely.

Still keeping his gaze fixed on Dipper’s face, the blond slowly stood up again and reached down to slide his arm under the boy’s legs, simultaneously placing one hand underneath his back. Then he lifted him up, holding him close to his chest as he carried him into the bedroom and set him down on the bed, covering him up with the blanket (an action which Dipper was grateful for, considering how uncomfortable the cold air was against his skin and how humiliating it was for him to be carried naked by a demon he detested, in spite of the activities the two of them had already engaged in).

The floor was wet now from where the water that Dipper had brought with him on his body from the bath had dripped onto it, leaving a damp trail from the bathroom to the bed. Instead of lying down next to him like Dipper expected him to, the demon crouched on the floor by his side, lowering himself so that the two of them were level with each other. “The feeling should start to come back to your body soon,” he told him, his voice hushed. “For now, I suppose you just want to rest?” He paused and Dipper’s thoughts confirmed his assumption.

Dipper closed his eyes but he couldn’t sleep. Images of his attacker - hooded, electric blue hair and ebony eyes - flashed before his mind’s eye and if he’d had the capacity to do so he would have screamed. His mind screamed instead but the mental images kept coming. The silver blade in his hand gleaming in the sinister glow of sunlight. The blood that coated it. His blood. He remembered the pain, the way the knife was thrust into his stomach and how it had twisted, piercing his insides. But Bill… Bill had defended him. He would have been dead by now if it hadn’t been for him.

By the time he opened his eyes again in attempt to block out the terrifying mental images with other visual matter, the space beside him which the demon had previously filled was empty. He had nothing to look at, nothing to amuse himself with or to distract him from the images still playing in the back of his mind.

The blond had been right when he’d told him that feeling would return to his body soon. It was already happening. There was a warmth manifesting at the fingertips of his right hand which gradually spread up his arm to the rest of his body, leaving his neck and face till last. It felt like it took hours for his body to finally be free of the numb, icy prison it had been confined to when in actual fact it took less than sixty minutes.

He sat up, yawned and stretched, and made the mistake of looking down. The injuries he’d sustained following his attack were prominent. The gash on his stomach from where he’d been stabbed had been sewn up, golden thread closing what had once been a gaping and bloody chasm that spanned across his stomach. The copious amounts of blood that had leaked from his injured body had been cleaned by Bill, staining the bathwater and the cloths he’d used a deep crimson colour. There were cuts and bruises on his arms and legs too - some new, but some old.

Unfortunately, with the return of the ability to feel various physical sensations came the ability to feel the pain that his injuries resulted in. It hurt to move. His muscles ached and so did the bruises on his legs. And the wound on his stomach… The sigh of it made him want to be sick. Just the knowledge of what had happened to him was enough to make him feel ill. Clearly, leaving the cottage had been a big mistake. Yet the demon had allowed him the luxury of going back to his family, even if just for a few hours, although he’d never been able to actually go back and see them.

The door leading into the ensuite bathroom was closed. That was odd, seeing as they usually left it open. He frowned at it and, wrapping the velvet blanket around himself to protect his body from the cold, he crept over to it and knocked on the door. He assumed Bill must have been inside but what he saw when he opened the door was nothing like what he’d expected to find.

The blond was lying in the bath, the bloody water draining away, with his body completely exposed. His clothes were scattered across the floor and yet Dipper saw that his own clothes - bloodstained and dirty - were bundled up in the demon’s arms, some of them lain across his thighs. His hand was hidden beneath them, wrapped around his cock as he bucked his hips up into his palm. Dipper’s body froze and he stood there in the doorway, eyes glued to the sight before him - the sight which should have repulsed him, but didn’t; instead it did the opposite.

He wondered whether Bill was aware of his presence. A normal person would have stopped and shown embarrassment but the blond hadn’t reacted to him being there at all, as if he wanted him to watch. Dipper knew he shouldn’t have, but he was - in a way - enjoying watching the demon’s hand slide up and down the length of his leaking cock as he thrusted upwards into the pile of bloodstained clothes in his lap. Even more worrying for him was the way in which his own body responded to the shameless, hungry moans escaping from the blond’s lips. His heart was pounding and every drop of blood in his body seemed to be rushing south. He told himself he couldn’t help it, that it wasn’t his fault, as he tugged at the blanket around his shoulders to ensure that the lower half of his body was completely covered.

It was all too obvious when the demon neared his orgasm, his breathing quickening and the movements of his hand and hips speeding up. Still watching from the doorway, Dipper snuck his hand under the confinements of the blanket and wrapped his hand around his hardening dick, teasing the leaking slit with his thumb. He gasped instinctively at the contact, immediately attracting Bill’s attention. The demon had turned his head to stare at him though he hadn’t stopped his movements or his moans.

He came hard and fast into his hand, smearing cum across the younger boy’s clothes which were still splayed across his naked body. He tried to stand up too quickly and, not having calmed down from his orgasm, his legs gave way under him and he had to wait a few minutes before he managed to climb out of the bath and approach the brunet in the doorway.

By the time Bill returned to the bedroom Dipper was already lying in the middle of the bed, the blanket still covering him, with his fingers still coiled around his cock and tugging hard. After glancing at him for a split second, the blond strode over to him and prised his hand away, flinging the blanket over his shoulder in the process. With a click of his fingers, the all too familiar chains that had connected Dipper to the bed posts before clamped around his wrists again, holding his hands above his head.

Smirking, the demon muttered something about him being too eager under his breath and turned on his heel, heading for the landing. Dipper called out after him, begging him to release him - he hated himself for it, for sounding so weak and helpless, but there in the heat of the moment all he wanted was relief and he didn’t care what he had to do to get it - but the blond simply ignored him, shutting him out completely as he walked down the stairs with his lips carved into a sinister grin.


	6. Breaking Your MInd

It had been hours. He had drifted in and out of consciousness, each time clueless as to whether he’d ever wake up again and each time alone, waking alone and sleeping alone until eventually fear and confusion got the better of him, convincing him that the demon had gotten bored of messing with him and abandoned him. That was when he screamed. His body flailed, the chains attaching his limbs to the bed posts rattling with every movement. He screamed and screamed until his voice became hoarse and his throat sore. Then he stopped, the pain too much to handle, and lay still. Everything was sore, and cold, and he was starving. On top of all that, there were too many thoughts and emotions filling up his mind for him to comprehend any of them.

By the time he had become utterly convinced that he’d been left, that Bill Cipher had claimed him, abused him and then rejected him even after saving his life, he had just about given up on his life completely. Killing him in his sleep - or even while he was awake - would have been kinder. But then Bill Cipher never had been kind, even if he acted kind on one or two occasions. That was just an act. It wasn’t the real him; the real him was evil, manipulative and sadistic. His current treatment of him was proof of that.

Except that, just as he closed his eyes and prayed to every deity he’d ever heard of in spite of his doubts regarding their existence that he’d die shortly for whatever reason and preferably in his sleep, he heard the sound of a familiar voice. Not a human voice, and not Bill’s either. It was a cat. And, he was certain, it was Star.

He could hear her paws padding against the carpeted floor as she trotted up the stairs and slipped into the bedroom, immediately making her way towards the bed. Jumping up onto the bed, she sat and licked her paws, eyeing him tentatively. In spite of her being no more than a small, helpless stray cat, he suddenly felt embarrassed and exposed and tried to cover himself by turning over onto his front, but only succeeded in rolling onto his side.

“Star,” he whispered, as it was all his hoarse voice could manage. If Star came back, he thought, then maybe Bill would come back too. But that, he supposed, was something he could only hope for - if it was even worth hoping for at all; there was no doubt in his mind that he was better off without him. At the bottom of the bed, Star curled up by his feet, gazing at him with a worried look in her emerald eyes. But she made no attempt to help him escape. That didn’t come to him as a surprise but it would have given him a feeling of relief if she had.

Praying for his own death one last time, he closed his eyes and allowed exhaustion to whisk him away.

He awoke a while later to the sound of hissing. Acting on instinct, he attempted to sit bolt upright only to be restrained by the metal chains he had by then forgotten about. But what he saw before him made him forget about everything - the agony the chains was causing, his unbearable hunger, the thought that he’d never get to see Mabel or anyone ever again and even his regret over his temptation to put his faith in the demon who clearly only looked out for himself - and he immediately began to concentrate only on what was happening now.

There was blood on the floor by the bed, a trail leading up to where the blond stood. Dipper’s initial reaction was to thank that he hadn’t died in his sleep after all because Bill hadn’t really abandoned him - Bill had come back for him, just as Star had. But then he saw what was in the demon’s hand and just as quickly as he’d become confused over the cause of the bloodied floor, panic and dread set in. Hanging upside down, with Bill’s hand clamped around her back legs, was Star. Her green eyes were closed, shutting him and everything else out, and her charcoal fur matted with sticky blood oozing from multiple wounds all over her body.

As Dipper’s horrified gaze met with Bill’s, the demon immediately released his grip on the cat in alarm. To Dipper’s amazement, she wasn’t dead. As every cat should, she landed on her padded feet with a gentle thud and scampered out the door, hopefully to safety. The blond didn’t chase after her but instead stood there staring at him. The almost apologetic look on his face made Dipper’s heart sink - because it meant that he knew already that what he’d done was wrong and only cared now that he’d been caught.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t decide whether to beg to be freed, grateful for Bill’s return or to express his fury and upset that Star had gotten hurt. And then there was the confusion he felt when he wondered why Star had been hurt. There was just no need for it, though he suspected it had nothing to do with whatever the demon felt he needed to do, but rather he’d experienced an impulse he’d had no desire to fight off.

Bill’s gaze suddenly hardened. “It was necessary,” he claimed, but the righteousness in his voice did nothing to convince Dipper it was true. “You wouldn’t understand,” the blond added somewhat sorrowfully (though Dipper presumed he was just upset - if that was the correct word to use - that he wasn’t able to manipulate him into believing his lies as quickly as he’d hoped). “You don’t need to understand, Pine Tree. That thing’s trouble. And anyway,” he went on, quickly changing the subject. “Didn’t I tell you not to let it in here?”

Staying silent, Dipper raised his tired arms only slightly, just enough to make the chains rattle. Bill’s nonchalance was only intensifying his anger but exhaustion was preventing him from expressing it. How, while chained to a bed and unable to move because of it, was he supposed to stop another sentient being from doing whatever it wanted to do? And why would he have thought to do that, considering everything else that was going on in his life at that moment? He’d thought he’d been left for dead! That was enough to make anyone forget that they’d been told not to let a stray cat into the house. And even if he had remembered, he wouldn’t have cared anyway, because as far as he had been concerned then when he’d waken up alone yet again Bill was never coming back for him!

With a click of the demon’s fingers, the metal chains vanished and Dipper gave a sigh of relief, rubbing at the sore red marks on his wrists in attempt to ease the pain. Neither of them said anything, even as he sat up properly and stretched his legs, groaning automatically at the pain and discomfort. Bill turned his head and averted his gaze, focusing on the floor in front of him. After a moment, he glanced back at him and, his voice dripping with sarcasm, muttered a harsh “You’re welcome” as quietly as he could manage.

Dipper decided to ignore his comment, too tired to deal with anything else. “Where did you go?” he asked quietly, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. If he’d try and kill an animal - one that he was attached to - right in front of him, then what horrible things was he willing to do behind his back?

“Just visiting some friends,” Bill replied with a smirk. Dipper automatically scoffed at the idea that anyone who had met Bill hadn’t instantly despised him, but then he remembered how manipulating and deceiving he could be and derailed his train of thought before he gave the demon anymore ammunition to use against him. By this point the blond was hovering above him and gazing down at him curiously. “You must be… hungry?” he asked tentatively, sounding unsure of himself.

“Hungry” didn’t cover even half of it. “I’m starving,” Dipper groaned in response, jumping down from the bed and snatching the velvet blanket up from the floor, using it to cover himself. He shivered, still cold, and turned to the demon with a helpless gaze. “And I’m cold,” he went on. “And tired, and in pain…”

“Alright, kid. I get it,” the blond snapped, interrupting him and giving him a harsh, unsympathetic look. “I’ve… neglected you, or whatever. Quit whining about it and get dressed so I can give you something to eat.” For a moment or two, Dipper stared at him blankly. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” The harshness in Bill’s voice broke his trance and he nodded eagerly, heading over to the wardrobe to pick out some clean clothes. It was then that he remembered what he’d seen the blond do with his dirtied, bloodied clothes but pushed the thoughts out of his mind, deciding that for the moment, all he wanted to do was rid himself of his crippling hunger and dehydration.

Downstairs, Bill sat with him and watched him eat but Dipper couldn’t help noticing he didn’t eat anything himself. He could barely taste anything - his food, the cup of hot tea the demon had given him - but that had very little impact on him and he wolfed it down without stopping to think. “I thought you weren’t coming back,” he said when he was finished.

Bill didn’t seem to hear him and he considered saying it again, but then he took him by surprise and spoke up. “As if I’d abandon you, Pine Tree. We’re having so much fun together!” He grinned at him in his usual manic, wicked manner and Dipper sighed heavily, knowing he’d never understand what was going on inside the demon’s head.

Without warning, Bill suddenly stood up and flounced off, heading upstairs without a word. Dipper stared after him, frowning, but remained in his seat until the sound of the demon’s shoes thudding against the floor died down. Then, sure that he was in the clear, he made his way into the hall and examined the floor by the door. He’d seen a red stain there earlier but had tried not to pay attention to it, knowing that it was probably Star’s blood. And it was. It was blood, anyway, and it must have belonged to Star. Bill wasn’t injured. Bill Cipher didn’t get injured.

He wanted nothing more than to clean it up and forget all about it but the very sight of it made him want to throw up, his disgust and anxiety freezing him in place. He stood there staring at it for a minute or so before Bill appeared at the top of the stairs and shouted to him. “What do you think you’re doing, Pine Tree? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

That remark surprised him but he tried not to let it show. Resting? He’d spent God knows how long stuck in bed drifting in and out of consciousness and, although he did feel exhausted from it all, resting was the last thing he wanted to do. “Well, I don’t really want…” he trailed off, fear getting in the way of what he wanted to say. “Actually, I’d rather go out, if… if that’s okay. I mean,” he added hurriedly, seeing a glimmer of rage lighting up the demon’s eye for no more than a second. “I didn’t get to see Mabel the other day, and I really…” He really missed her. It stung that no-one had come back to see him or try and help him escape, but it was probably for the best. Bill Cipher was all powerful, wasn’t he? If they tried to help, Bill was sure to get rid of them one way or another.

He had lowered his gaze to the floor, not daring to look the demon in the eye, but when he finally gazed up at him again he was greeted with a subtle yet definitely unnerving smile. “Let’s not talk about them for now,” the blond cooed, spitting out the word “them” like it tasted so vile it made him sick. “Come upstairs, have a bath, rest for a while - that’s what you humans do, in situations like this, isn’t it? - and then we’ll see.”

Recognising that “We’ll see” was probably the best he was going to get out of Bill at least for the moment, Dipper trudged upstairs and followed him into the bathroom, where the blond clapped his hands and the water started running in response. As they waited for the bath to fill up with warm water, Dipper stared at him harder than he’d ever done before, trying desperately to find some clue to what his game really was. Every day, Bill’s motivations seemed to change - sometimes even within an hour or so. Sometimes it felt like he actually cared, like he actually wanted to protect him and keep him safe. And then other times he was beating him for his own amusement or using him for his own pleasure, laughing harder the more Dipper begged him stop.

Whatever game they were playing Dipper wanted out. It was tearing him apart, breaking his mind into a thousand pieces and he was sure that just by admitting that, he was already losing.


	7. Sunset

Any more resting and Dipper would have screamed. It wasn’t surprising that Bill’s actions were constantly contradicting everything he thought he knew about him, but this was far worse than Dipper had ever predicted it would be. Now the demon was pretending to care about him and as far as he was concerned, he was definitely pretending. There was nothing sincere about the look of worry on his face every time he leaned over the bed to lift a glass of water to the boy’s lips, nor was there anything even close to genuine about the way his golden eye lit up whenever Dipper said he was feeling better.

Bill Cipher was a fraud. But he was a fraud he was playing mind games with - against his will, no less - and although he had once been determined to win, every day he spent trapped in that quaint little cottage with no company other than the demon that was causing his suffering another portion of his sanity was broken off and now all he really wanted was for it all to be over. As long as he survived the ordeal, he would have achieved his goal.

Of course he had no way of knowing whether Bill intended for him to survive it or not, though he guessed that if he didn’t find a way to escape soon, he’d be discarded and killed whenever the demon decided he’d had enough of him. And that day could come soon - though it probably wouldn’t - or it could come tens of years into the future. He just didn’t know. Even if he was trapped there inside that cottage with the demon for decades, he’d never be strong enough or powerful enough to escape. He was beginning to see that now. Before, he would have thought that as he had been able to defeat Bill once before he could do it again, but that seemed like wishful thinking now. Bill had a physical form now and he still had magic on his side. In other words, there was no way Dipper was getting out of this situation alive unless Bill suddenly had a change of heart, and the odds of that happening were a million to one.

It had been a day and a half since Dipper had last eaten anything. He was still keeping himself hydrated, fighting off the headaches with a glass of water here and there, but he had no intention to ever eat so much as a bite of anything ever again. Except that even his motivations were changing drastically within a matter of hours now and he suddenly decided he was desperate to eat something. There was a look of relief on the demon’s face when Dipper’s stomach growled and his mind screamed at him to get him something to eat - a look that might just have had a hint of sincerity. A few hours ago Dipper would have refused outright any food the blond had tried to give him, hoping that the sun would set on his misery within a few weeks at the most, but now he was actually asking for something to eat.

Bill got up from the bed immediately and headed downstairs without so much as a single word. Dipper watched him leave silently from his place on the bed, lying there with the blanket pulled up to his neck. He no longer had the energy to sit up so he was lying on his side, curled up with his knees hugged to his chest. Every inch of his body was sore and his throat was dry and painful; it even hurt to swallow a few mouthfuls of water now. 

He hated what his life had become and he blamed Bill entirely. What confused him was that even though Bill was the one he blamed for it all, he was also the only one he had to rely on. No-one else was there to take care of him. No-one else had come looking for him when he was abducted and no-one else was there with him now. If there was anyone logic told him to trust, it was Bill Cipher. But that conflicted everything he knew about the demon and it was just impossible for him to really trust him, even after being saved by him.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs alerted him to Bill’s return and he tried to sit up instinctively, eagerly awaiting the food the demon was bringing to him (he could smell the tantalising scent of tomato soup all the way up the stairs) but was only able to raise his head slightly so immediately relaxed, laying his head back down on the pillow. When the blond re-entered the room, he placed the tray he was carrying down on the floor and kneeled beside him. Leaning over slightly, Dipper examined the contents with wary eyes.

A fresh glass of water to replace the half-empty one he already had. A bowl of tomato soup with a silver spoon lain beside it. A few slices of freshly made bread, still warm. His stomach growled at the thought of it.

It would have been careless of him to instantly give in to his hunger but that’s exactly what he did. At first, he only thought of himself as careless when he allowed the demon to shove a spoonful of the soup into his mouth only to realise how hot it was when it caused a stinging, burning sensation to envelop the tip of his tongue the moment it made contact with it. And yet because the spoon was still in his mouth and he was unable to push it away, he swallowed it down, struggling to ignore the pain as it slid down his throat, burning each portion of his body it touched.

After he finally swallowed the spoonful of hot soup, Bill retracted the spoon from his mouth and Dipper shook his head, a silent way of telling him not to do it again. “It’s too hot,” he whimpered quietly, sticking his tongue out automatically in attempt to cool it down. It felt strange to finally start speaking again after keeping quiet for nearly a full day.

“Oh, well I can just…” Trailing off, the blond waved his hand over the bowl, instantly cooling to a more appropriate temperature. “Try now,” he said as he shoved another spoonful into Dipper’s mouth, amazing him at the notion that it was the perfect temperature now that the demon had used his magic to cool it.

He finished his meal within minutes, although his glass of water remained only half empty, and cleared his throat to speak. “I’ve… I’ve been resting for a long time now. I’m ready to get up. I’m well enough.” He tried to make himself sound as strong and as confident as possible but Bill wasn’t the tiniest bit fooled by his charade.

“No, kid, you’re not,” the demon snapped at him, frustrated by his pretence. “I know you’re not. I can read your mind, remember? I know you’re just pretending. I know you want me to leave so you can sneak out and go and see Shooting Star and Sixer and the rest of that… family of yours.”

Dipper swallowed nervously, the answer to the question he was about to ask becoming apparent. “So… I can’t go, can I?”

“Of course not,” the blond smirked, a sinister glint in his eye. “You’re an insolent kid sometimes, Pine Tree - persistent, though. I like it.” He paused for a moment and looked thoughtful. “Soon, kid. You can go back soon - just for a visit, of course - but for now, if you even think about going back to them until I say you can, you’ll have to make it through another punishment… And I’m not going to be nice about it this time. You got that?” Holding his breath, Dipper nodded warily, eliciting an almost charming smile from the demon. “Good. Now, have some more water. You haven’t been drinking very much lately.”

Without a word, Dipper obediently allowed the demon to lift the half-empty glass of water to his lips and eagerly drank from the glass, the cold water filling his mouth and eradicating the dwindling remnants of the burning sensation that had engulfed his tongue beforehand. 

When he was finished, Bill set the glass down on the bedside table and stood up, leaning down to hungrily nibble at the human’s lower lip before forcing himself to stop. Dipper could tell by the look in his golden eye how hard it was for him to make himself stop and he guessed he was doing it for a reason other than because he knew he was too weak to want to do anything. There was always an ulterior motive with Bill Cipher. Always. And Dipper was sure there’d never be any exceptions.

As the demon turned away and headed back downstairs, carrying the tray in his hands in order to return it and its contents to the kitchen, neither of them had any idea that the sun could potentially set on their time together in the cottage so soon.

Or that Stanford Pines would be the one to try and make that happen.


End file.
